Blind Love
by MadiconMan
Summary: There's a challenge at the school: Maximum Ride. Since the eighth grade, boys have tried to charm her but she remains immovable. It's all a game to her, she loves knowing that so many men could find it fun in wanting her. And even after all those years she wonders: "How can anyone love me?"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- I do not own Maximum Ride nor will I ever.**

** - I also do not own the cover.**

_**And kingdoms shall bow before me.  
>_<strong>_

It all began in 8th grade.

We lived in a small town; everyone knew one another, no secrets were kept the way they were, everyone was all up in one another's business, and they weren't very many cute girls.

So I guess this is where I come in.

I was born with a spunk that came in a loud squeal of pure craziness, straight out of the womb. I had my personality set from day one: I set my own rules and no one could tell me what to do; except of course, my parents.

I was the troublemaker at home, declaring myself a tomboy

"_Max! You are a lady!"_

And even going as far as to cut off my hair with safety scissors. But I proudly walked to school that day. At first they were snickers but a firm glare and "You wanna laugh at my face?" got the problem set out straight. Of course, I was only six.

But no matter the trouble, from birth I made myself known. Everyone knew who I was.

I am Maximum Ride. I may not be _the _prettiest girl but I can make you fall to my feet. And in 8th grade that's what happened. Hormones kicked in, boys were finally growing, and they wanted a woman. Not some sap who was easy to get, but me! Impossible to get and hopelessly amazing! Of course the pieces would eventually connect in their brains- the idiots.

So I guess they made it a game of theirs, who was the most macho? Who could go out with Maximum Ride the longest? Who would make her swoon at their feet?

Now here's the problem- I don't swoon.

So I guess I've got the rest of their high school lives at my fingertips.

And a joy it shall be.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I do not own Maximum Ride nor the cover image for the story**

_Sometimes I wish I could be different  
>_<em>

It was always during lunch, the set time. But, of course, there were the occasional boys brave enough to ask after hours. I would sit there with my hands folded neatly ankles crossed or head in hands in complete utter sarcasm.

Probably hard to understand, but I couldn't take anyone seriously.

Lunch time was the time when boys would come and ask me out. Only two a day could ask me out, some unknown rule that didn't really exist but somehow became a thing, and _no one, _I mean _**no one**_ got past week one.

What is week one you ask? The first week of dating me of course! And no one made it past first set of dates simply because I thought them boring.

I wasn't like most girls. I wore ratty jeans and long sleeve shirts all the time under a tee. I liked to wear lots of bracelets and colorful socks. And I wore the same shoes every day: my converse!

But I reveled in who I was. I loved the fact that I was different. I loved that hot, idiotic, sweaty boys were caught by me somehow. I never really knew why. I knew I was average looking, more on the pretty side than the ugly, but I just never got it.

Not really until he came along.

Here's a secret

_shhh, don't tell_

I've always loved to read. I only have six books but I've reread them over and over again. I never felt like I should have more because these five were so special and endearing, it would be offensive to have other books.

I don't know why I never told anyone. They wouldn't care. And even if they did I could pummel it into them that they didn't care.

So why did I care so much? I try to…but I just-

… I don't know…

I peek out of the corner of my eye at the kid writing in his journal. It's lunchtime but no boys have come up yet. It happens sometimes. I could care less, just as long as they come next week.

He claims that writing relieves him of his pain, that it's like sharing his feelings with someone else. But I beg to differ. One, he has no pain to suffer, and two, writing is never enough.

Black hair falls in his eyes and he quickly pushed it back with the tips of his fingers.

"Max, why are you staring at me?" His dark eyes are gazing quietly at me.

"Why do you write in that thing?" I say loudly, not for attention but simply frustration.

He sighs. "I always do and I always tell you why."

I shake my head because his answer is stupid. "Fang, go jump off a cliff."

"Only for you, baby." That's not Fang. The word 'baby' would never be uttered from lips in such a derogative way. Gazzy pops up from behind me trailed by his sister, Angel.

I remember first meeting them.

"Wrong school, kindergartners." Angel just sort of tilted her head knowingly. At the time I thought of her as an innocent child, often portrayed in little angels.

"Max, yes?"

I was shocked then. How did she know me? "Yes?"

"This is my twin Gazzy, he's gassy, I'm Angel, I'm smart. We skipped two grades and starting school early. We are your new graduating classmates.

Hello." Then she waved and smiled cutely why Gazzy just stood there awkwardly. And that's how I met them.

They were such weird children.

But back to the cafeteria.

There was a new kid going on around school, rumors spreading. You see, it was a small town. Everyone knew one another, every secret was spread,

_I wish that was the truth_

every lie was made fact.

So it was impossible that he wouldn't be talked about or noticed. And naturally his name gave him all the more attention.

Here at our school nicknames are common. You got Fang, Gazzy, Nudge, Dirt, etcetera. But come on, Iggy? I mean maybe I'm just being judgmental but that's a weird name. What were the parents thinking? "Hey let's sneeze and see what is sounds like! That'll be our child's name!" Clever, I'll give you that. Icky Iggy.

Harhar.

But.. I wish… It wasn't really that funny. But I remember loving the attention and laughs I got as I spoke this aloud to Gazzy and Angel. I guess I liked it when they laughed…

Whatever. What am I talking about? Oh yeah, Iggy.

"Max?" I looked up realizing that I'd been silent for a bit too long.

"Are you alright?" Fang asked gently. I looked at him and felt like I could trust him.

"…Yeah." I couldn't trust him. Or maybe I couldn't trust myself. I looked off into space deep in thought. I thought about a lot of things; the last book I read, what Fang was writing

"Max right?" A guy plopped down on the bench across from me. I remember that when he sat down his pale blonde hair flopped onto his forehead. It was so messy. I just wanted to brush it away.

"That's me." I said confidently. I brush away the past. That's what I do.

Then he flashed a wicked grin, teeth gleaming in all their glory. It contradicted the rest of him. He was easily towered over me and gangly looking; I almost expected his teeth to be sort of dull and boring.

But I know better than anyone not to judge by looks.

"I hear you're the most popular girl at school and that no guy can survive you. I'm going to take you on a date this afternoon and prove them all wrong."

I was sort of flustered. No guy has come with his amount of confidence. Sure, they thought they could beat the other guy but still… I looked around the table and quickly found Fang's eyes, only they were scrawling away in his notebook.

"Huh." I sighed and looked back at Iggy (it could only be him). "Deal. You're in."

He cocked an eyebrow but nonetheless still had that playful grin. "You're serious?"

I raised a brow right back him. "Do I look I kid?"

"… Nope." Then he threw his head back and gave a weird sounding chuckle. "I'm so going to win this thing." And he ran off to a group of guys laughing.

He was oddly confident and it was oddly refreshing. And then I realized,

_He didn't even tell me his name._

**A/N He doesn't know that she knows his name so he'll just appear at her door or wherever she lives and he hasn't planned anything so Iggy sucks at asking girls out.**


End file.
